


Fortunate Son

by thatsuperwholockgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Rock and Roll, Romance, Songfic, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsuperwholockgirl/pseuds/thatsuperwholockgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A set of ficlets chronicling the relationship of Dean Winchester and Castiel; starting with a big reveal and ending with some serious domesticity. Dean learns that through everything, he is, in fact, extremely glad to have Castiel in his life.<br/>p.s.- lots of fluff, minimal angst</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title from the song of the same name by Manfred Mann's Earth Band.  
> Enjoy! :)

###  Blinded By the Light

It was a brisk October morning with the harsh sun shining through the motel room's window. Sam was already out, taking advantage of the brief recession of dark rain clouds to go on a run. Dean, however, was sitting at the incredibly small table, nursing a cup of coffee and looking over coroner's papers on the latest victims of a witch's spell. 

The crazy thing was making people cough up mass amounts of push pins, thus cutting open their throats and making them choke on their own blood. It seemed like an easy hex-bag spell at first, but there's something else there too that the boys can't figure out. There also seemed to be no motive or a defined M.O. 

And, as far as Dean could tell from the coroner's reports, not even one of the 17 victims was similar to the next. He crinkled his brow and tried to think deeper about the whole situation. Did those evil sons-of-bitches even need motive? In the past, it seemed that, yes, witches are driven by some sort of revenge, but this one could be different. Perhaps he/she is a particularly spiteful being. 

Not even Bobby could figure this whole thing out. Dean groaned at that thought and set down the papers he was scrutinizing. All of the guesstimating that Dean was doing was giving him a headache so he put his head in his hands to ward off the slight throbbing. All of a sudden, a thought dawned on him, making his eyes pop open and grow wide. 

It was time to bring in the big leagues. 

Dean was still pretty uncomfortable doing this, but he closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to figure out how to word his prayer. He huffed in aggravation when the right words didn't come and he concentrated even harder. 

"So, uh, Cas? You out there, buddy? Sam and I need-" He was cut off but the rustling of wings and a whoosh of air. Dean cracked one eye open to see Castiel standing in the corner closest to him with a serene look on his face. It was almost as if Castiel felt he belonged there. 

"Yes, Dean, what is it?" Castiel inquired, head tilted to the side. Dean opened both eyes now and tried to ignore the little flip-flop his stomach did when Castiel moved to pull up the chair opposite Dean. He blushed when he realized that the feeling was still there even after he tried to stuff it into the deepest parts of him.

"Uh, we sorta... uh- We need a bit of help," Dean stammered out. Now Castiel looked a little exasperated as if to say _'Yes, Dean, I know that. Why do you think I came?'_ , but he remained silent as ever. 

Dean finally snapped out of whatever it was he was in, decided to think about the implications of this little feeling later, and moved on. "We need you to figure out some witch's spell. It's got us all wracking our brains but we're coming up with jack-squat."

Cas sat, staring squinty-eyed at Dean, while rubbing his hand over the perpetual stubble on his chin. 

"And Sam hasn't come up with anything either?" Castiel asked. Dean shook his head and held out the reports he had been looking over and Cas took them, their fingers brushing slightly. Dean pulled back, startled by the contact and Castiel looked at him quizzically. Dean decided to downplay the thing and explain to Cas what the papers were all about. 

"You see, these people have absolutely nothing in common. No physical similarities, none of them have the same jobs, and none of them have records. So, what then?" Dean pondered, squinting his own eyes. Cas pursed his lips and shook his head and Dean had a hard time focusing on what the angel was saying next. _Lipslipslips._

"I'm sorry, what?" Dean asked, leaning forward. _Jesus, what is happening today?_ Castiel rolled his eyes, apparently something he'd picked up from Sam in his time with the Winchesters. 

"I said, I have a few ideas of what could be happening but I need to go confirm some things," Castiel repeated, annoyance broadcast on his face.

"Could you do that and then get back to me ASAP? I'm really trying to figure out all this evil crap." Dean sighed, relieved, when Castiel nodded his head. When the angel flew off, a dark blue, shimmering _something_ caught Dean's eye where Castiel was just sitting. Dean looked into the now empty space, trying to figure out what he just saw. 

"Hey, Cas, get back here!" Dean exclamied. "Please," he added, before the angel smote him for being so annoying. There was more rustling, for the third time in fifteen minutes, and Castiel appeared again. 

"Yes, Dean? I was just about to go look fo-" Cas started, but Dean's eyes were growing wider by the second.

"Shut up and come here!" Dean blurted, mesmerized by the vast appendages coming out of Cas's back. Although looking wary, Castiel ventured over to Dean at his request. 

"What are you staring at, Dean?" Cas asked. Dean dragged his eyes up to look Castiel in the face. 

"Cas, you- your wings. Your wings are out," Dean whispered, still in awe. Castiel looked suddenly alarmed and turned his head to look behind him. He let out a barely audible sigh and looked back at Dean.

"It appears that you are correct," Castiel muttered, looking uncomfortable and exposed. Dean chuckled at Castiel's expression and moved a bit closer. 

"Can I touch them?" Dean wondered. He'd never seen anything like them before, and that's saying something. Castiel's wings were enormous and they looked extremely cramped in the tiny motel room. The appendages were the bluish-black color of the sky in the very wee hours of a soon-to-be-brilliant summer day, and the light made the feathers seem to dance about with every movement. There was even almost a _glow_ to them, like they'd catch on fire at any moment. The were magnificent. 

Castiel swallowed hard but eventually nodded in response to Dean's request. Dean moved slowly forward, as to abate Castiel's discomfort. Green eyes bounced to blue ones and they held there as Dean reached out a tentative hand to land in silky feathers. Dean and Castiel gasped in unison and both sets of eyes widened. The electricity was undeniable, pure and raw and powerful, coursing through human and angelic veins alike. 

Castiel let Dean stand there, stroking his wings, for a couple minutes before either of them spoke again. 

"I suppose I could always call in my brothers to take care of that witch you asked me about earlier," Castiel mumbled dazedly. Dean came out of his own daze and looked back at Castiel's face. 

"Nah, no need to trouble them. Besides, I better stop petting your wings like a pansy before Sam comes back." Dean took his hands out of the mass of feathers and rubbed his neck with his right, while growing red in the face. "Jeez, Cas, you coulda told me it was weird to be doing that." 

Castiel seemed to turn a bit pink as well before he answered, "No, it was not 'weird', Dean. It was obviously a good thing, judging by that jolt we both got the first time you touched them."

Dean's face turned an even darker shade of red and it spread to his ears. "Oh, like our 'profound bond' and all that," he mumbled, waving his hand back and forth. 

"Yes, precisely. But I'm, uh, going to leave now," Castiel replied. "I'll take care of the witch, while you and Sam look for another case." 

Before Dean could say anything else, Castiel flew off, leaving behind a single, glossy feather.


	2. Candle In the Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _What started out as friendship,_   
> _Has grown stronger._   
> _I only wish I had the strength to let it show._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I guess you'll get where this is going sooner or later. 
> 
> Also, this chapter is a bit long. Sorry, I couldn't control my Destiel feels! 
> 
> Anyway... enjoy! :)

After _The Wing Incident_ , Dean had been thinking a lot about Castiel. The thoughts were coming more frequently than they normally did, anyway. And the extra attention wasn't paid to Cas's safety or even to his level of comfort at any given time. Dean was thinking about Castiel’s eyes, and his lips, and his glowing wings. 

_Whoa, Dean-o, hold it together. He's your best friend, practically family!_

Dean would think that every time his mind would stray to the not-so-familial thoughts about Cas, but it never changed a thing. It was almost like his subconscious mind _wanted_ Dean to be gay for the nerdy little dude; and Dean just felt weird about that. 

***

Two weeks had passed since _The Incident_ , and now a job had Dean and Sam cruising the highway that stretched North out of Georgia, coming from Atlanta. Castiel had not shown up since that day in the motel and, to be honest, Dean was getting a little nervous. Sam was also getting nervous because he could see the obvious worry in Dean's eyes every time those green orbs looked skyward.

Eventually the boys stopped for a bathroom break somewhere in Southern Tennessee, and Dean got an unexpected text message.

_Dean, where are you? We need to talk. -Castiel_

Dean messaged back with the information, happy to see that Cas was still alive and doing well. Sam came walking out of the Porta-Potty with a confused look on his face and was just about to ask Dean something, when he was interrupted by a deep, gravelly voice. 

"Sam, not now. Please retreat elsewhere." Dean turned around to see familiar mussed, dark hair and the ever-present trench coat, standing two feet behind where he was leaned against the Impala. "Hello, Dean," Castiel greeted. Dean nodded to him in his own greeting.

"But, Cas, there's just that Porta-Potty... and I really, _really_ don't want to go back in," Sam half-whined. He grimaced at some memory that's probably best left unspoken, and Dean gave a head nod of silent understanding. 

"Sam, it'll just be a few moments. Go... study the types of trees over there." Castiel motioned with his hand toward the small forest surrounding the rest stop. Sam reluctantly walked to the tree line, stared back at Cas with one of the meanest bitch-faces he could muster, and then plopped down in the grass. Dean chuckled at his brother's minor temper tantrum, but moved his attention to Cas. Castiel looked back to Dean and sighed, a little trace of relief buried in it.

As they were staring at each other, Dean wondered what Castiel had so urgently needed to talk to him about. He figured it was probably about the wings thing, but he wasn't about to bring it up himself. He'd wait for Castiel to initiate the conversation and then they'd go from there.

Castiel's head tilted in that way that was so _Cas_ and Dean's heart felt like it was a horse that had just leapt out of the starting gates at the Kentucky Derby, adrenaline filled and ready to race. Finally, Castiel spoke, but it did nothing to calm Dean's heart condition at the moment. 

"I've come to talk about my wings. You see, it was an interesting reaction for the both of us and I really thin-" Castiel was interrupted by Dean moving to narrow the gap between them to one foot instead of two. 

"Yes, Cas, that's what I figured you came for. I mean, I think we should just forget about it and have everything go back to normal." Dean nodded at his own suggestion and a faint smile played on his lips, happy with his apparent solution. Castiel moved imperceptibly closer and continued to stare Dean in the face.

"Have things ever been 'normal' for you, Dean? Or for me?" Castiel said dryly, almost sarcastically, drilling his gaze into emerald eyes. He looked off into the distance behind Dean while the other man considered the question that was really more of a statement. Castiel looked back as Dean shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, looking down to scuff his boots in the dust. 

"So, I think what you mean is that nothing could ever be the same in our relationship, correct?" Castiel guessed. Dean cringed at the dreaded 'r' word and squinted his eyes, looking up to see Sam now lying in the grass, eyes closed. Castiel moved closer still, expecting an answer. 

Dean looked back into the intense blue orbs and searched for an answer, maybe; he didn't really know what he was looking for. He sighed and took a step back, suddenly uncomfortable with the closeness. Castiel looked on at the action with concern, wondering why his hunter had moved away when they were just getting somewhere. Dean sensed the angel's hurt and moved back to where he was standing previously.

"Cas, c'mon, nothing should change, right? We got it good, we're like brothers. Just because I saw your wings- which are freakin' awesome, by the way- doesn't mean that things should change." Now, Dean was the one getting close, choosing to clap his hand on the angel's shoulder rather than do something that would do just that; change things. He grinned at his friend and Castiel looked up at him to nod his head. 

Dean's heart began racing again with the chosen closeness and it certainly wasn't laying the foundations for his little spiel a minute ago. Dean stopped smiling to gulp in air that he didn't know he'd been lacking until that moment. 

"So, we are 'cool' now?" Castiel inquired, air quotes and all. Dean laughed and thought about how adorable it was for Cas to do that. Then it dawned on him that he _did_ want things to change.

So, no, they were not cool. Not yet. 

Dean looked toward the sky, contemplating if he really wanted to do this or not. Did he really want to start a 'relationship' with his best friend? Would that even be the result of Dean's actions? His heart got faster and faster as he looked to Cas, to Sam, and then the sky again. Dean licked his lips and saw how Castiel's eyes traveled, following Dean's tongue. That sparked something in Dean, something that had been buried deep for a long, long time; and it was time to dig it out. 

Dean looked back over at his brother one last time to see if he was watching. He was satisfied when he saw that Sam's eyes were still closed and it looked as though his chest was falling slower, as if asleep. Dean bit his lip, peered back over to Castiel, and moved even closer. Their chests were almost touching and he realized that there was no going back now. 

Castiel seemed to get the gist of what was going on and laid a hand over Dean's heart, feeling it beat faster as he did so. He looked at the taller man quizzically, still wondering what sparked the change in demeanor. Wasn't Dean just saying that things shouldn't change? So, why was he doing this? 

Dean bent slightly to get their lips level and Castiel's eyes fluttered closed. Dean watched and smiled at the restless eyeballs behind the drawn shades, the eagerness of the angel seeming to spur Dean on in his quest for _more_. All those thoughts since that day in the motel room were not just passing fancies; there was something else there in Dean's coveting of Castiel, no matter how hard he tried to lie to himself and everyone else. 

"Look, Cas, this is something that I just can't-" Dean chuckled at what he was about to say. "I can't fight this feeling. Feelings, really. Not for very much longer." His voice dropped to a whisper and he looked away as Castiel's eyes popped open. Cas moved to be in Dean's line of sight and Dean got the courage to stare back. Dean breathed another laugh over Castiel's lips. "I really just quoted REO Speedwagon, wow."

Castiel didn't get the reference but decided it unimportant next to how intimate he and Dean were being in that moment. Cars whizzed by and people's lives went on as if nothing monumental were happening here in their little bubble. Castiel hummed slightly and closed his eyes again, this time hoping for something to happen.

Dean finally closed his own eyes and crossed the line into unknown territory. Castiel gasped into the kiss but did not pull away, and Dean was thankful; there was no way he could've lived down the rejection.

The kiss was sweet, slow, but not without passion. There seemed to be miles and miles of emotion and warmth inside them both, unraveling as the kiss deepened. They both knew that things this special were best taken without urgency. 

They stood like that for a while, tasting each other, before pulling apart, faces flushed and lips kiss-swollen. Both men seemed to not believe their eyes, so they had to keep reaching out to touch the person in front of them. 

"Now, we're 'cool', Cas," Dean said as he ran a thumb over Castiel's stubbled jaw. Cas just laughed and watched Dean's face.

It was Dean who broke the touching and glanced toward his brother, as if to remind Castiel of Sam's continued presence. Together, they walked to where Sam was lying and smiled down at the sleeping man. Dean's face broke into a sneaky grin as an idea popped into his mind. 

"Hey, why don't we have some fun with him before we wake the damn giant?" Dean elbowed Castiel in the ribs and Cas pushed him away, laughing lightly. 

Castiel smiled and lowered his voice conspiratorially, 

"Alright, but you hold him down if he starts to squirm. I'll begin the braids."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from 'Can't Fight This Feeling' by REO Speedwagon, because Kevin Cronin sings from the heart (and the hair)


End file.
